


not months but moments

by CallicoKitten



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Spoilers, terrible men being terrible with their emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 00:33:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: Harry’s dreams are mostly bursts of colour, butterfly wings, waxy and thin, brushing against his hands, his arms, his cheeks. He dreams of Valentine’s gun, dreams of the church, of Eggsy, of Merlin.Things might be a bit muddled, Ginger said.He doesn’t know if these things he keeps thinking of with Merlin were dreams or fantasy or reality.





	not months but moments

**Author's Note:**

> this is canon compliant fuck you matthew vaughn

He tells Eggsy that that day, staring down the barrel of Valentine’s gun, covered in sweat and blood, he thought of nothing because it’s true.

-

“Things might not come back all at once,” Ginger says, bending down and shining a light in Harry’s eyes. “And they might be a little muddled so don’t be shocked if you have a little difficulty the first few days.”

Harry curls a hand through his puppy’s fur and nods. The corner of his mouth twitches. Over Ginger’s shoulder, Merlin and Eggsy hover. Eggsy looks over the moon, Merlin looks cautious. The puppy shoves his nose into Harry’s hand and Harry has this sudden flash of Merlin, holding the same hand between his, turning it gently, pressing a kiss to Harry’s palm.

Harry closes his eyes.

Ginger pats him on the shoulder. He opens his eyes to her smiling.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Harry Hart,” she says.

Harry does his best to smile. “Likewise.”

-

It’s a while before they get a moment alone. Ginger leaves, then Eggsy. Merlin sits on Harry’s bed surrounded by padded walls and painstakingly drawn butterfly wings. Ginger’s promised to move him out of here in the morning, it feels claustrophobic in here, smells like a sickroom.

“It is rather inspired,” Merlin says, looking down at the puppy snoring between them. “When Ginger said _trauma_ I thought – ”

“Drowning me was the only solution?”

Merlin winces. “Sorry about that.”

Harry smiles, “It’s alright. I know you’re not really a dog person.”

Merlin doesn’t look at him, his eyes downcast. Harry wants to touch him, wants to put a hand on his knee, on his thigh, wants to pull him close and press against him until there’s no space left between them.

Merlin’s hand moves then and for a moment Harry thinks – but no, he reaches out to scratch the puppy behind the ear. “I dunno,” he says gruffly. “Some of them have grown on me.”

-

Harry’s dreams are mostly bursts of colour, butterfly wings, waxy and thin, brushing against his hands, his arms, his cheeks. He dreams of Valentine’s gun, dreams of the church, of Eggsy, of Merlin.

_Things might be a bit muddled,_ Ginger said.

He doesn’t know if these things he keeps thinking of with Merlin were dreams or fantasy or reality.

When he wakes, the butterflies still flit around his head. He shakes them off. The puppy is on his chest. It yawns and licks his nose.

-

“Yes that’s normal,” Ginger says, distractedly. She’s checking Tequila’s vitals, noting something down on her clipboard, her fingers darting across the touchpad quick as Merlin’s. “Give yourself some time. You’ve been out a whole year.”

Harry nods. Merlin keeps giving him these worried looks, his forehead creased, whenever he thinks Harry’s not looking. The first time Harry almost died on a mission he remembers Merlin, thirty years younger, face pale, jaw taut, waiting for the room to clear, for the doors to be locked before hugging him. He remembers Merlin shaking, remembers his fist clenching the fabric of Harry’s hospital gown, his face pressed into the space between Harry’s neck and shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Harry had said, tilted his head towards Merlin’s. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Or maybe not. Maybe that was just a dream.

-

“I’ve never been in love,” he lies.

Merlin steps out a few moments later dressed like a Kingsman. Maybe it doesn’t matter whether it was real or not, whether it happened. It still knocks the wind right out of him.

He takes a moment on the plane to follow Merlin out of the main seating area, where Merlin’s headed he has no idea but as soon as the door snicks shut behind them Harry wraps his arms around Merlin from behind.

“Harry,” Merlin says it like a sigh.

“I have to know,” Harry says.

Merlin’s breathing is loud in the tightness of the plane’s corridor. “Know what?” he asks, voice soft.

In answer, Harry presses a kiss to the back of Merlin’s neck.

Merlin exhales. “ _Harry_ ,” he says again and Harry thinks back to that first time when they’d been pressed to tightly together that he could reasonably pretend not to hear it when Merlin said, _I can’t do this._

This is outside of his comfort zone. 

“I missed you,” Harry says.

Merlin laughs. “You spent a year drawing butterflies on the wall, Harry. You had no idea I existed.” But he turns his head to rest it against Harry’s anyway. “You were dead,” he says. “I watched you die.”

There are a lot of things Harry could say to that. Stupid things like _I’m sorry_ and _it’ll never happen again, I swear_ and _I’m here now, I’m here,_ things that Merlin doesn’t want to hear because it’s their job, because this has happened before and will happen again.

Merlin clears his throat. “We’ll be landing soon.”

-

It seems pointless to have lied to Eggsy now in the aftermath. Harry’s ears are ringing like they haven’t since his first few missions, the scent of gun powder and copper hanging heavy in the air.

“Merlin,” Eggsy says and Harry wants to say it’s pointless, he’s seen the aftermath of enough landmines to know that but he’s thinking about the scrawny kid clutching a clipboard he met during his trials for Kingsman. The one with a thick Scottish accent and hair shorn close to his scalp, broke a kid’s nose for sneering at him.

When Eggsy darts out of Poppy’s diner, Harry follows.

The butterflies are back as they edge through the jungle. He finds Merlin first. His legs are mostly gone, his eyes are closed. The butterflies flit around Merlin’s head. Harry kneels down. His face is tilted sideways, his suit is a mess. He’ll hate to be in a wheelchair.

Harry reaches out presses his fingers against Merlin’s pulse point. There’s a weak thrum. The butterflies start to swarm.

“Eggsy,” Harry says, his mouth his dry, his tongue heavy, his words come out slurred. “Eggsy, I need you to – ”

“Shit!” Eggsy says. “Shit, fuck, is he - ?” He bends down, Harry gestures. Eggsy reaches out, checks his pules. His eyes go wide. “Ginger, Ginger, we need medical!”

“He’s alive,” Eggsy says a moment later, rests a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “He’ll be alright, Harry. If they can fix a fucking bullet to the brain they can fix this mess. Maybe we can even fix Merlin up with some of those sick blades Valentine’s girl had.”

-

It’s a week before Merlin opens his eyes. The Statesman have done their best but Merlin’s legs couldn’t be saved. Harry opens his mouth, closes it. He doesn’t need to say anything, he sees it all flicker through Merlin’s eyes. The confusion, the surprise, the fear, the acceptance.

Harry’s holding his hand. They don’t say anything about that, either.

Instead, Merlin licks his lips. “So it went well then?” His voice is cracked and raw.

“As well as can be expected after the brains of the operation got himself blown up.”

Merlin’s smile is weak. Harry squeezes his hand. “I – ” he starts to say but Merlin cuts him off.

“If you’re about to apologise or say _it’ll be alright_ or something, I will be forced to put out your other eye.”

“Actually, I was going to say that since you got my house blown up we’ll be staying at yours while we rebuild.”

“Oh,” Merlin says. “Well, then.”

Harry smiles. He slides his hand up Merlin’s arm, all the way up his shoulder to cup his cheek. He leans forwards and presses a kiss to Merlin’s forehead, lingers there a moment.

“ _Harry_ ,” Merlin says and it sounds like a sigh again but this time it sounds relieved. Happy.

“Merlin,” Harry says back, kisses him soundly. Merlin doesn’t push him away, doesn’t say anything about secrecy or propriety, just looks up at Harry, gaze soft and says, “I hope you’re planning on bringing that fucking mutt with you to my house.”

Harry laughs. “Actually, I’ve already sent Eggsy on ahead with him.”


End file.
